Shall I compare
thee to a flattened tire?
Thou art as
lovely and temperamental.
Rough winds,
roads, and gravel did shake your soles,
This summer,
the dog, his leash hath dragged me.
Sometimes
too hot paved alleys melted you,
And often
was my complexion undimmed;
And every fair
street when weather declined,
By chance or
dog’s changing course, his hair untrimmed;
Oh, the
eternal summer has faded you,
Such that
you’ve lost possession of that fair thou ow’st,
And shall bring
death and rebirth in recycling,
When in
eternal lines to new products thou grow’st.
So long as men can breathe, or eyes
can see,
No longer
live these stinky, filthy sneakers that gave life to me
(because walking
my grand-dog wearing these sneakers was my only form of aerobic exercise for
the last six months).
